Mad Max Dystopian Fanfiction
by 73mfp
Summary: A short novel about a scavenger who s losing his mind and everything he stands for as he tries desperately to cling onto life.


Mad max/ Dystopian fan fiction.

Chapter 1; A Lesson In Pain.

I feel nothing but pain, my skin has torn off in several areas along with my shirt and the sunburn is severe. I can't feel anything but numbness on my back and legs. There`s dried oil on my face, or is it blood? My blood? I don't know I can't really feel anything. I don't remember a lot from the past few days, but I can gather that I fell off a car at some point. I'm half submerged in sand and I don't know if I can move, I see a car sitting about ten metres away, it doesn't look crashed or anything but it's sort of just sitting there. Ok, maybe moving might be a good idea, I try twice to lift myself up, but the sharp pain throws itself throughout the nerve endings in my body. Fuck. One more try, I see white and am in severe danger of throwing up now. I steady myself, look forward and hobble slowly towards the car.

I walk past the burnt corpses strewn around and try not to look at them. I manage to bend down and pick up a wrench from what remains of a man's belt, it looks like these guys were looted for guns a long time ago, so the wrench is all that's left. The car is running but no ones in it, fuel level is near empty and its running like balls. Looks like you're run of the mill scavenger, there's a bunch of random shit in the back like copper tubing and even a few bits of wood, this shit`s worth heaps. Who the fuck left this here? The car itself is an old Valiant with the trunk, rear seats and half of the roof removed. A typical scav by the looks. I don't question it for long though I need to get the fuck outta here. There's an old police jacket in the back, it hurts to put on but I'd rather that than raw wounds. I figure the car`s probably got 20 miles worth of gas in it so I hit the road.

The car is junk, it runs like shit and it likes cutting out without warning. My best guess is the timings fucked but I honestly don't know, there's a couple of rounds of different sizes on the dash, I recognise a 12-gauge round, a 20 gauge buck and a 45 acp but the rest of its weird homemade stuff, there's not much else other than a letter that I think is in Chinese, a flare gun, and some old looking seeds. I eat the seeds on impulse and wipe my face, it was blood not oil after all.

The car coughs and splutters and finally coasts to a graceful halt, turns out the fuel gauge doesn't work. I try the ignition again and it doesn't even turn over. I'm gonna need fuel if I wanna move this pile of shit. Looking around there is literally nothing in the way of scenery, I'm a sitting duck but it looks like I'm camping here tonight.

The jacket offers next to nothing in the way of cold protection but at least the shelter of the car provides protection from the wind. After looking through the back of the Valiant all I can come up with food wise is a lima bean and about four grains of rice. I chew on the rice feeling defeated and ridiculously hungry, it's alright though I've lived off less in the past. I don't sleep much but when I do its all nightmares, I see death. I see the people I've killed, I wake in cold sweat. God I'm thirsty, I hear movement. I freeze.

It's a dog, a big fucking dog. I jump out of the Valiant and wrap my numb hands around its throat, it fights back violently so I end up having to awkwardly wrap my legs around it while digging my nails into its throat, I get bitten a good four times and it put me on the ground. There's blood pouring down my leg. I don't let go of its throat, intense struggle. Another bite. It can't breathe, it jerks violently, finally… relief, the dog is dead.

I'm not gonna lie, I drank its blood. It honestly didn't even quench my thirst. Its fucked up how much I hate this life, it's made worse that I remember what was before. I wish I was born into this hellfire without memories of the past. I know what was lost.

Morning comes around and the feeling of cold is replaced with searing heat, my numb hands slowly come to life. I look to the horizon and I see dust. So much dust.

It's a storm. I frantically search the car for anything remotely combustible. There's a drink bottle full of blackish liquid, it smells like kerosene. It is kerosene. I know that if you mix fuel with kero it will combust, but I still need petrol for it to work, I keep searching. There`s a small motorbike engine is the back, thank fuck for scavenging. It's got a little bit of two stroke fuel in it, and I pour it into the drink bottle, mix and pour it into the fuel tank. I also pour a bit into the carburettor for good measure. The dust storm is within two hundred metres, oh fuck. I try the ignition, once, twice, three times, fuck I'm gonna flood the engine. Four times and I hear beautiful ignition.

The car goes faster than its probably gone in a long time. The speedometer tells me I'm doing 120 ish but honestly, I don't trust it. The dust is keeping up with the fucking car! There's dust in my eyes I'm in the fucking storm, I can't see anything. Fuck! I`m driving blind at this point and I know I'm gonna crash this car. The ground feels rougher under the wheels, we get air. The front of the car falls, lands and then falls again. The car flips violently and the weakened frame buckles. Everything goes black.

I wake up.

How the fuck am I alive. I'm lying in a drain? It's a huge concrete floodway. I look and see the car is completely totalled. I landed on my back, but I guess the police jacket is made for motorbikes because I can still walk even if I am in massive amounts of pain. There's bits of shrapnel and car everywhere so I grab what I can and go. I figure the storm drains gotta go somewhere so I just walk. Every now and then there's a bit of scrap or a fucked-up car, I search a few but most of them have literally burnt to the ground so all I come up with is a can with something burnt stuck to the sides of it. I get the feeling I'm being watched, I look back and see the glint of a sniper rifle. Two shots hit the ground in front of me and I leap behind a wreck.

I can vaguely hear a ringing in my ears and I realise one was closer than I thought… my left ear is fucked. The bullet clearly didn't kill me, but I think I ruptured my eardrum, there's blood pouring from my ear, it must be a high-powered rifle. Three bullets whip the side of the wreck and I crawl lower to the ground. I don't even have a gun… I know damn well that that rifle could literally tear me in half, but I have to act.

I wait until he's just fired then I run. My lungs burn. I look, and I see him closer now, he's swapping his clip, it looks like 50cal. God I'm lucky. I barrel into him and suddenly it's a scramble for the gun. He reaches for his belt, there's a Glock in his hand, then it's in my face. I wrestle for control and the gun barks; my forehead stings a lot. I hit the clip release and the 12-round clip falls on the concrete, I put my sharp nails in his eyes and shove his head into the concrete, I just keep slamming his head into the concrete. I see blood on the concrete and I know he's out cold, but I just keep smashing his head in, some primal instinct kicks in and more adrenaline is released. There's bone fragments on the concrete. I lift his head and look into the man's eyes, he's dead completely. His skull is caved in completely at the back. I get up and shake from the adrenaline release, I look at the man again and shudder… part of me enjoyed that. For a second, I'm about to break down, I count to five, breathe out… and grab his gun.

It turns out this guy had a car after all. It's an old Chevy Nova painted matt grey and he's sprayed 454 on the side in a dark blue colour. It's been done up in an urban camouflage pattern and has heavy armour all around, I hop in and connect some wires under the dash. The beast kicks into life. The fuel tank is mercifully full and there's about a gallon of water in the back, I put my foot on the accelerator and head off through the storm drain.

The path ahead is hard to navigate and there could be traps or an ambush anywhere, there's totalled cars strewn everywhere and there`s sections that are underground. Going through the tunnels is particularly hard because I can barely see anything. I drive for a couple of miles without seeing anything of interest and then I see it, the wall. It's a huge rusted wall covered in spikes. Everything about it screams buzzards. I stop too late. I hear screaming and banging from behind the wall and the wall opens like a gate. About seven cars covered in spikes pour out. This is bad, I can't turn around there's no room. I have one option. I throw the car into reverse.

Turns out the gearbox does not like changing into reverse, it shudders and then finally shifts. The motor roars as the cars speedometer creeps past 40, I'm at the end of the gear, this is my reverse top speed. The back window is completely armoured so can't see anything, I lean out the window, the rear end connects with a wrecked car and ploughs through it. I have to jump back to avoid losing my head. It's a good thing this car is built for this. I look ahead as an armoured Buzzard slams into the front bumper, the bumper on this car looks tough but I don't know how long it can hold. I need somewhere to turn around. I hear another wreck on the rear bumper. I pull out the Glock with one hand and start firing at the windows of the buzzards, there`s a lot of armour so it's hard to get a shot in but one of the buzzards stacks it into the side of a wrecked van.

The buzzard hits my bumper again and I finally enter an open area. I grab the handbrake and wrench the wheel; this thing weighs a ton and I think the tyres are filled with concrete. It aggressively shudders to the right and amazingly doesn't spin out. I`m facing forward again. I Shove the thing into first and unleash the full power of the 454 V8

The thing still weighs a shit-ton though and the thing doesn't really wanna do over 70. It's really fucking hard to steer this beast, I have no doubt it weighs over 2 tons. The buzzards are still close behind, they`re a lot lighter and faster so it's gonna be a real challenge to lose them. I throw the thing into fourth and narrowly avoid another wrecked vehicle. I look up to the sides of the spillway and see more buzzards pulling out of pipes and other nooks and crannies.

That's when I see it. The path is blocked. There are five cars set up blocking the road, I`m trapped. But I'm still not giving up. I plant my foot. I look at the buzzards around, I look back to the roadblock. The speedometer reads 80, I keep accelerating.

The car ploughs into the side of the roadblock, the front-end lifts slightly but the weight of the beast keeps it down to earth… I'm through, I can feel the whiplash sharply in my neck. The car almost cuts out, but the armour did its job, up ahead there's a ramp and at the end of that there`s sand. I plant my foot and head up.

There`s tarmac ahead, I haven't seen a real road in 8 months. Too much going on to think about that for now. The car hits the tarmac and instantly the speedometer picks up a little, god I missed real roads. The buzzards are still on me and there`s so many of them, I may have got out of the spillway but I'm definitely not in the clear yet, I throw the car into fifth and let the 454 do its thing, the buzzards are definitely getting closer now. I only have one advantage on the buzzards, my car is tough, theirs are built for speed.

We fly past an old sign that says, "THIS IS A MAIN FORCE PATROL PROTECTED AREA, ROUTINE PATROLS IN THIS AREA". Something tells me that might be bullshit by the fact that "force" has been changed to "farce" and there are about 70 bullet holes in it. I haven't seen an Mfp car in years, last one I saw was being burnt to the ground by raiders and its owner was strewn across the highway in several parts. It's a fucked-up world.

The buzzards are slowing down a bit now, probably to save fuel. I see something big coming up through the swarm of buzzards. It's a truck, I think. It looks like the cab of a Ford or Dodge truck with six tractor cab sized wheels and a huge gun turret on the back. It's also covered in spikes of course. The thing is quick and its even matching speed with me at this point, it's coming up alongside me at an alarming rate. I get a glance at the engine, it's a twin supercharged V8 setup, it's also far too nice for buzzards to of built it so I reckon this is an old war rig maybe, whatever the case I don't wanna be on the receiving end of that gun turret.

The truck gets closer still, its within ten metres of me now! I`m fucked he's gonna unload that gun into my Nova for sure, but that doesn't happen, at least for now. The truck slams into the back of the Nova and the tail end lifts into the air, I swerve shakily but manage to regain control. Fuck he`s coming back for another ram! This time I see it coming and throw the nova into the dirt, I wrench the wheel and fight the sand back onto the highway. I`m right alongside the truck now and it occurs to me that he could totally just shove me off the road right here, I've gotta be careful. The turret turns, my heart drops. I swerve the poor Nova mostly out of the way of the hellfire of the flamethrower, but the car is on fire now. Shit did not see that coming. The passenger seat is ablaze and I can feel the fire burning my leg, Fuck! I need to get this out, but I can't waste water on it. I desperately try smothering it with an old tarp from the back and It's kind of working.

The Nova is hurting really bad, the temp gauge is very high and the motor sounds sputtery. This is bad. I look ahead and see a group of cars by the road, I see the distinctive red, yellow and blue on a couple of cars. There`s about ten people and some of them shoot at the buzzards, thank fuck they didn't hit me instead. I see them run to their cars as we fly past, but I don't know if they're gonna help or what. I`ve gained a bit of a gap on most of the buzzards now but flamer can still touch me, I hope the truck doesn't use it again.

The Mfp or at least the guys driving Mfp cars have caught up. They throw Molotovs, they shotgun down the buzzards. One Mfp guy gets hit hard and eats dirt, I see the bright yellow Falcon roll further back in the dust. But they push on, the truck accelerates alongside me but I'm ready, I prop the 50cal out the window and fire into the motor, the truck slows down and starts billowing smoke, he slows down and so do the rest of the buzzards, they aren't in their territory here and there aren't enough of them. They fall back and turn around. We drive on for a few miles, an Mfp guy signals for me to pull over and I reluctantly do so, by this point the Nova is at the top of the temp gauge and is probably dying. I have no choice.

Chapter two; The Mfp.

The Mfp lead me to a settlement. It's a small place with a roughly cobbled together fence and a lot of homemade stuff around. The place is built around an old petrol station that only has three of its original four walls. The big sign is still there proudly saying BP fuels, fucking irony. They take me to the main man, he introduces himself as "Roop". I've never met the guy before, but I can tell he knows his shit when it comes to survival. He tells me I`m free to stay here a few days and can do whatever I want as long as it doesn't cause trouble. He reminds me that everyone here has a gun, so I shouldn't fuck around. Fair enough I like the guy.

He introduces me to a guy who calls himself Goose, he`s a burn victim and he uses walking sticks to get around, he`s got a couple of bikes and a few beat up Mfp cars sitting around. Roop tells me he can get me a car for the right price, I tell Roop cheers and head back to the Nova to get some rest. I sleep under the tarp in the back that night. Still so many nightmares, It's like a plague, day and night. Terror.

The next day I talk to Goose about fixing the Nova and we get talking, he tells me he`s willing to get me a whole new car if I use the said new car to help the base get some water. He sounds desperate and tells me there's a convoy route we could follow but it's got a lot of crazies and raiders. It's a really good deal, a whole new Falcon Mfp car for one water delivery. But the more I mull it over the more it sounds risky, how desperate are they for water? How many people have died trying to get water? It sounds really risky but honestly everyone's days end at some point and sometimes risks are worth it in the end. I agree in the end, he tells me there will be three cars, Roop and Goose, some other guy named Charlie, and me. It sounds possible with three cars but I`m nervous, the Mfp cars stand out a fair bit. Thankfully they had the foresight to paint most of them black but my one still has the faded yellow paint job and the word "Pursuit" written on the back, it also doesn't have the boot lid and the motor is incomplete. He suggests I help him build it with him.

After almost 7 months out in the wild, socialising is hard here, I prefer not to. I don't really trust anyone. I trade my copper tubing for a tub of mystery meat and wolf it down. It's strange not having to constantly look over my shoulder, this place has so many things I haven't seen in years, there`s even a mirror. I look into it and get a look at myself, my beard goes halfway down my chest and the bullet wound on my forehead looks really fucked. Its gonna leave a massive scar, I check my ear and see I tiny missing chunk from the 50cal. I have so many scars on me now. I look into my eyes and I see something almost animalistic, I sit here trying to be "normal" but there is no normal. I`m scarred, I`ve seen so much shit. I can barely function anymore. They have it so lucky here, some of the kids here have never seen anything beyond these walls, I envy yet also pity them. When they eventually leave this place, their world will break too I suppose.

The small convoy heads out early in the morning. We move swiftly and quietly, I wrap my hand around the Glock and keep the other on the wheel. I check the horizon, we have a two-day drive to our water supplier and I know this isn't gonna be easy. I keep the motor at half throttle as we head out doing around 40 miles an hour.

Chapter 3; Back To Waste.

We lasted a day and a half before it all went to shit. I vaguely remember fire, twisted metal, blood and fury. I went into autopilot, I find myself a couple of hours later sitting with a full jerrycan amidst wrecked cars. I walk back to the Falcon, I look back on the remnants of our convoy. Roop ran, Charlie crashed, and I don't know about Goose. Both are dead. We were so outnumbered, I don't know how I lived. I throw the jerrycan on the back seat and reload Roop`s sawn off. Ignition. The road. The dirt. I just do what I know how to do, I just drive.

It's been three days, I`ve stopped once for a sleep. I don't know where I'm going. I`m exhausted, eventually I have to stop. I pull over, I kill the motor. Tank is quarter full; jerry can is empty. This is what I do when shit gets fucked up, I run. I don't have to look in the faces of their friends and relatives and explain how they died and how I lived instead. I just keep running. From the ghosts. The dead. I recline the chair and think, "fuck it, if the wasteland wants to kill me It can feel free, because I`m sleeping now,"

I wake up nearly fifteen hours later, I`m suddenly hit with the realisation that I have no idea where I am. The ground looks different out here, Its cracked, maybe a seabed? I walk out, I grab the 50cal and I scan the horizon. I see a car in the distance maybe a mile away, it's really flat out here so I can see a long way. The only reason I spotted it though is from the pillar of smoke, this looks bad. I get in the Falcon.

It's a bloodbath, it really is amazing how much damage a machete can do to the human head. Ten years ago, I would probably have gagged and thrown up by now, but foods too valuable now. I just stare for a minute and search the car. As I suspected when I got here almost everything`s been ransacked but it was done in a hurry, there`s a couple of strips of beef jerky (or any other meat, it's probably dog for all I know) in the footwell. There`s also a gasmask lying under the car, If I get hit with the fog this will be useful, the fog is worse than the regular storms. It's less of an actual fog more of a low-lying cloud, its toxic. Completely. It's not harmful to the touch but if it finds its way into your respiratory you can expect a long slow and extremely painful death. People think it's the residue of all the factories that were destroyed because it`s usually not radioactive. I keep looking and find a 12-gauge slug in the sand.

Another scan of the horizon shows me very little, there`s something large and rusty but its barely a spec. Maybe a boat? A car I have no idea. I put the car in gear and head off in that general direction. At this point I need fuel, badly. The little red light`s on now. Not good.

I arrive, it's a boat alright. A boat full of raiders.

I get out of the car and go to shoot the first guy, the shotgun misfires, burns my hand and falls out of my hands. The raider looks up at me with a demonic smile. Shit.

He`s quick but I`m desperate. I haven't fought in a long time, but I do my best. He goes for my neck, I go for his gut, with a wrench. The wrench manages to penetrate his skin and he screeches in pain. The second guy is on me before I can react. I feel something hit me in the head hard, I see stars and they start dragging me. I'm not out yet though. My hand reaches my belt and the flare gun. The flare is incredibly bright. It hurts my eyes, but probably not nearly as much as it hurts the raiders face. His hair is on fire and he just keeps screaming. The other stares in shock. Now is my chance, I scoop up the shotgun and sprint at the other guy. He turns around to feel the butt of a shotgun connect with his jaw. He`s out cold.

I search the boat, they had no petrol, but they do have a diesel generator. I siphon the diesel and head off. The fuel gauge reads empty, its alarming for sure but at least I`ve spotted something. It's a boat, but it's huge unlike the last one, it`s probably 350 metres in length. I perch on a dune and watch through the scope. I see a convoy slowly enter the massive hulk of a rusted ship, using the zoom I can vaguely make out guards perched on the sides of the ship and a fair few lights inside. It looks like it could be a trading post, I'm suspicious but desperate. I start the Falcon.

I stop at the gate, I hear movement inside. Every gun is trained on me. "This is a free trading post mate," I hear echo from inside, "We need some kind of payment to let you in, we don't accept rough shit here so if you cock it up we`re gonna to put a bullet right through you," I think it over, it seems fair enough. I speak up, "Aright, I got some diesel for ya`s if you let me in," I hear mumbling inside, a voice booms from inside, "Alright you got yourselves a deal, come on in buddy,".

Inside is not what I expected, I park the Falcon next to a couple of other wanderers and look around. It's a massive market space, I see hundreds of people busily milling around trying to buy and sell their goods. People are haggling and arguing, someone nearly gets in a fist fight but seems to remember the guards. People are shouting in languages I don't understand, there are large neon signs hanging over some of the stalls. There`s a couple of scavengers like me, but there`s also people trying to sell fish and other meats, I haven't seen fish since before the gas wars. The fish are enormous and have row after row of razor sharp teeth, they`re clearly mutated and probably toxic. I walk up to the man trying to sell the fish, "Where did these come from?" He stares blankly… "The fish mate," he looks at me and mumbles, "The great sea,". I`m confused, I didn't know there still was a sea, I guess it makes sense it surely can't dry up completely. "Where is the sea?" He stares at me again and just says, "South,". I don't have any more questions for him and I don't want his fish, so I just walk on. I need petrol, but I don't know where to look. I ask around, but most people just ignore me or don't speak English. I see sparks from a welder ahead, that's my best guess on where petrol might be. I head over, there are cars in various stages of being built and torn apart all around with price tags on each one. I look over and I nearly jump with joy, it's a Nova! It's my Nova too, or it was my Nova at least. I look at the price and cringe. The guy wants 120 litres of fuel for it. Get fucked. I walk over, and a big guy approaches me.

"Hey mate you after a car or what?" I look him up and down, he`s a big guy. He`s got tattoos on his arms and he looks like he knows how to fight. "Nah just here for some petrol if you've got any," He glares at me. "What`ve you got to trade mate?" He asks. "I`ve got a flare gun and a couple of 45 colt rounds," he thinks it over, "Alright that`s worth 10 minutes on the pump, follow me." I have no idea what he means by the pump, but I accept and follow him to the "pump".

The pump is exactly what it sounds like, I have ten minutes to pump as much fuel as possible out of this ancient rusted beast. It groans slowly and even working as hard as I can it still only lets out a tiny dribble at a time, after what feels like an eternity he comes back. "Times up," I look at him and then down to what has to be less than a litre of fuel. "Okay… thanks I guess,"

That's when I hear the shouting. A war party. Something about 50 or more cars, I hear curses shouts and then without warning an explosion. My ears ring, I can't see properly, there's smoke everywhere and people crying, running and lying on the floor. I hear someone shout that they can't get through the wall, I see more fire. Hooks snag through the wall and I see the rusted steel bend under the pressure. I run.

My hands find the door of the Nova. I hear more shouting and confusion. I try the door but unsurprisingly its locked, I look over to the man who sold me the petrol. He`s lying on the floor clearly in pain, I walk over to him and point the Glock in his face. "The keys, where are the keys," I say amidst the confusion. He just points to a toolbox lying under a bench. I walk off without saying anything and grab the toolbox. Its locked, but the Glock blows the lock off without trouble. I grab the keys marked "NOVA". I quickly scan the workshop for stuff I need or want, I see a jerrycan and a pump-action shotgun, I grab both and go.

The Nova kicks into life first try, who-ever fixed this car did a good job. I look to the wall, half of the wall suddenly rips open and angry looking men with guns run in. I look at other options, there's a gated tunnel at the end of the garage leading to god knows where. I have no option. I throw the Nova into gear and go. The gate flings open as the armoured bumper connects with it. The car picks up speed in the darkness, the sound of the 454 echoing in the dark, there is literally no light and all I can do is keep the car in a straight line. I floor it, without warning the Nova hits something and there`s blinding light. The Nova sails into the open air out of the front of the ship, it's a five-metre drop. The car almost nose dives straight into the sand but instead it lands on the bumper and then back on its wheels. I floor it off into the dunes. I look back and realise I`m not alone.

I`m being chased once again, but this time I`m more concerned. These aren't regular raiders, the cars and huge and fitted with big tyres and rambars. Bodies with missing limbs hang off the front and sides of some the cars. These are cannibals.

The cannibals are one of the most feared groups of raiders in the wastes, they hunt, kill, and eat anyone unlucky enough to come across them. they're infamous for being capable of taking down very intimidating foes. This is really bad.

I floor the Nova but they`re gaining rapidly, we leave the dunes and fly into a large flat plain surrounded by mountains. Its dry here and I`m sweating like crazy, I look back and see a good ten of them are coming up behind me. I look to the horizon and keep driving. That's when I see movement in the mountains, around fifteen tan and grey vehicles swarm from the mountain side. They`re off road converted muscle cars and trucks done up like military vehicles, these are clearly the Enforcers. The Enforcers are a fascist military group who want to see the world returned to the way it was before the wars, they kill anyone they deem un-worthy of living in their vision of utopia and their ideas that once had good intentions have become wrong over time.

Thankfully for me these two groups hate each other with passion.

There`s gunfire, lots of it. Heavy 30 and 50cal machine guns unload on each other from the two groups, I also hear small arms fire in amongst the resounding booms of the machineguns.

They didn't want to fire on me because I was a small target but now there`s a much bigger fight to waste ammunition on. I hear an explosion further back and catch a glimpse of an enforcer vehicle on fire. I feel a lot safer in all the confusion but I'm not out of the woods yet, someone rams me from behind. It's a cannibal. He hits me again and thankfully the Nova`s heavy curb weight keeps me in a straight line, I brake check him. Hard. I glance back and see the crumpled nose of the cannibal's car, no one fucks with the Nova`s rear end.

Another cannibal brings itself alongside me, he`s clearly going to shoot at me. I notice something I didn't see before, there's a heavy piece of steel on a hinge above the window. I pull it down without thinking and am shielded from what would`ve been a deadly shotgun blast. I don't know how this thing would fare against heavier weaponry though. I wrench the wheel, and before he has a chance to react the Nova`s side panels are ramming the side of his muscle car. He spins out and gets T-boned by an enforcer vehicle at full speed. The cannibal vehicle spins before landing face first into the dust and rolling hard, the Enforcer is an armoured vehicle, but the impact is enough to completely total the front end, he comes to a far from graceful stop and is left for dead.

The Nova is still running hard, but it's pretty beat up now, it will never be the beautiful car Chevrolet had intended it to be again.

The Enforcers are pissed off as well now, I hear a whistle and then the ground explodes right in front of me, I have no time to react. All I can do is hold my breath as we drive through the fiery explosion, the car lurches but survives and so do I. I look back and see a Ford F-150 with a piece of artillery on the back, this is among the craziest shit I`ve ever seen. The gun is being reloaded, that thing looks incredibly hard to aim but completely devastating. The flak gun fires again and I hear the whistle, the round tears through the metal of the A pillar like it's nothing and explodes about 20 metres ahead. I look back and see them reloading again. Fuck. I grab the 50cal from the passenger seat and try to aim it one handed, I quickly realise that isn't going to happen. I take my hands from the wheel, hold my breath and fire. The gun barks. The heavy round tears through the armoured plate of the flak and I see someone fall from the back without half their head. I quickly grab the wheel, I glance back. Someone jumps from a different vehicle onto the F-150, the gun is active again. The flak has bigger targets now though, a large cannibal vehicle is getting close to it for a ram. The flak turns slowly and fires, removing the inhabitants of the vehicle from this earth. The cannibal vehicle explodes and flips.

I look and see flares going into the sky from the cannibal vehicles, this is getting worse. I realise the flak is aimed at me much too late.

This time the rear end lifts fully into the air and the petrol tank explodes as well, the car falls forwards and then slightly left rolling on its side in a violent fashion. I lands hard buckling the suspension and then gets hit by another car. I don't get knocked out this time. The car`s on its roof, my brain takes a minute to get into gear. I slowly come back to reality and go into survival mode, I grab the jerrycan, the shotgun and the Glock from amidst the destroyed interior. I slowly claw my way out of the ruined Nova and see only a couple of cars have stopped for me. A cannibal is running towards me about five metres away, I bring up the shotgun one handed and fire, amazingly I hit him, and he is pretty much torn in half. That hurt my arm so much I thought it was gonna break, there`s blood on my face now. I`m pretty sure I`ve broken a few ribs. I force myself to get up and cough up petrol. The car is pissing fuel everywhere and I have to go, the second cannibal is smarter than the first.

Three bullets narrowly miss me and hit the car, I drop the jerrycan and reload the pump. I point it at him and miss big time, I pump the shottie again and this time I hit him right in the neck.

I start running, I throw the jerrycan over my back and limp as fast as I can. I run right through the path of the oncoming vehicles, the first on misses me by less than half a metre. I turn and see a truck coming right at me, I duck, and it narrowly misses my head. I get up and keep running. I look ahead and see a cannibal warrior running right at me. I see him much too late and he jumps and headbutts me with his helmet. He`s wearing a helmet made out of a bikie helmet and a human skull. It connects with my nose and I see stars, for a second, I know I'm going to pass out, but I feel a will to survive from deep within, with newfound energy I ram the butt of the shotgun into his jaw and hear a satisfying crack. I rub my nose and feel blood pouring down my shirt. It`s broken for sure, but I keep running.

Behind me more cannibal cars are pulling up, cars continue to fly past me. A bike rider gets too close I swing the shotgun and close-line him, he flies off and the bike lands on its side. I grab the bike and ride. Behind me I see what can only be described as hell. Close to 30 cars with more cannibal vehicles arriving, I`m so fucked.

The bike is probably a 400 or 500 but it`s so much slower than the other vehicles. I look back and feel so vulnerable, the bike is at the end of its gear and is screaming its lungs out. The vehicles are right behind me and a ram-bar is within a metre of the bikes tyre. I'm struggling not to fly off as well in the sand, there`s no traction and it's difficult to stay upright. The ram-bar taps the back tyre and I fall, I leap. I can not go under that car. I land on the front of the cannibal vehicle and hit the windshield hard, really hard. The glass shatters and I hold on to anything I can. Hands try to grab me from inside the car and I push away as hard as possible, the hands let go and I roll off the side of the car.

Broken bones. I know there's going to be a lot of them. I hit the sand hard and go limp to avoid snapping my neck, I roll about eight times and amazingly no cars hit me. I`m just lying in the sand now, I can't move there`s too much pain. I dropped the shotgun but the jerrycan is still strapped to my back, it digs in on a sharp angle. I attempt to move but give up quickly. I see the cannibals stopping further ahead, I`m done. The cannibals look distracted from me all of a sudden, gunfire erupts suddenly there's another battle happening, this is a total clan war at this point. I see more Enforcers moving in and I black out.

Chapter 4:

I wake up in shackles, the walls are made of rusted steel. Two other people lie beside me, one is wearing torn up bike gear. He`s covered in blood and his face is bleeding a lot, next to him is someone completely dead. They`re on the verge of completely decomposing and their skin is tight on their bones. I'm hungry, really hungry. I turn to the bikie, "Hey, you alive?" I ask with garbled vocal cords. "Mate if I were you I`d shut up," He points to a guy outside in camo pants and a leather jacket, he`s got an assault rifle maybe an M16 or an AR. Outside I hear yelling and see a skinny guy with a beard get kicked to the ground by what I assume are the guards, he gets on his knees, "Please I don't wanna die!" The guard looks him up and down then casually pulls out a pistol and shoots him in the head, he slumps to the floor. "Take him away and have him burned, we cannot leave filth like this in the hallways!" I turn back to the bikie and slump against the wall.

I fall asleep from pure exhaustion, there's no point in staying awake. All I remember from the next few days is starvation yelling and pain. My body needs all the energy it can get to repair my broken bones, I wake up in pain many times. I look to the bikie and he`s fallen asleep too. I wake again to clanging, it`s a small hunched over man pushing a cart with guns and other weapons in it, he briefly looks at me says nothing and rolls something to me while the guard`s not looking. I stare at him leave and barely have the strength to check what he rolled to me. It's a grenade, I nudge the bikie. He slowly opens his eyes but his face lights up when he sees the grenade. I need to wait until the right time to throw it, I wait almost two days.

A group of seven or so armed guards are about to walk past, with trembling hands I pull the pin and am barely able to roll the grenade into the hallway outside. The grenade is within 15 metres of us and there's a chance it could kill us too, it goes off. The steel bars that restrict our freedom fly across the room violently, body parts scatter the floor. My ears ring and my eyes hurt from the sudden brightness. I can't hear anything just ringing. I see the guard from outside, there are keys on his belt. I grab a piece of steel bar and slowly try to pry the keys from his belt, it takes a long time, but the keys come loose, and I grab them swiftly, the bikie and I uncuff ourselves and go. I grab an M16 on the way out and run.

I can hear pounding footsteps further behind us, I`m back in survival mode doing what I do best. Surviving. I sprint with everything I have and I`m in heaps of pain. I push open a door and suddenly I`m in something resembling a kitchen, I run past a small startled looking man and grab a big slab of meat from the bench. I see the bikie run through a different door. I keep running and push through yet another door into what looks like a supply room, there`s rows of guns, armour and other random gear lying around. I spot my old Police jacket in amongst other armoured coats and sling it over my shoulder, I also pick up a 44 Magnum, a back pack and a box of machinegun rounds. The door bursts open and a guard runs in, I point the M16 one handed and pull the trigger, the gun barks loudly and smoke fills the room, bullets tear through his chest and he falls to the ground. I keep running and push through another door into a huge warehouse full of cars.

I see mechanics working away but they haven't noticed me yet. I run to the left through an open door. I just keep running, I Leap down a stairwell into a grimy room full of hatches and holes, a big guy bumps into me hard. I stumble and fall into an open hatch. I fall probably 10 metres and land in fuel; the fumes fill my lungs making it nearly impossible to breathe. It`s about three metres deep and pitch black, the only light comes from the hatch up above. I swim slowly and with great effort, the fumes are clouding my vision I feel myself getting weaker. I keep going and feel a wall. My hands slide across the wall looking for a way out under the fuel, I can barely swim as it is and with all the gear I`m in severe danger of drowning. I feel an entrance to a pipe a metre or so down. I close my eyes and dive into the fuel. I swim through the pipe; my lungs are burning, and the fuel fills my open wounds causing sheer agony. The pipe curves upwards, and my hands feel open air. I inhale, relief. I claw my way out and feel sand in my hands, I look around. I can barely see, and my eyes are burning like hell. I think I'm going blind, I throw up. I reach around inside the back pack and find a large water bottle, I pour about half in my eyes and use a bit more to rinse my mouth of fuel. I lie on the ground coughing.

I wait maybe ten minutes and feverishly get up. I look back to where I was held captive, it's a large industrial style complex or military base with a huge scrap-built fence and warehouses inside. I start walking.

I know I have a decent lead on my pursuers, but they have cars and I`m on foot. I start jogging the best I can, I open the back pack and pull out the piece of meat from earlier. I rinse it the best I can and eat it raw, it's the best thing I`ve tasted in months. I see a mountain range ahead and figure I stand a much better chance of losing them in the rocks, I start walking up the slope. It's a hard trek but I`m making good progress, I look back and see dust heading into the flat areas. Its lucky they didn't choose to look in this direction.

I keep heading up the hill and my lungs are burning. I get to the point where I pretty much have to stop every five minutes, I crawl over a pique and duck down quickly. It`s a shed, it's almost like an aircraft hangar but a lot smaller. I crawl on my stomach and watch it for a minute, then with great effort I climb down the slope and walk to the door. I look for a window but there isn't one, so I carefully open the door anticipating an attack.

Inside is not what I expected, there`s an old mattress with someone asleep on it. There`s a pretty damaged Falcon Xb in the middle of the room with heaps of parts pulled off it, there`s a shotgun lying near the guy and spare parts everywhere. I call out, "Hey!". The man stirs, he turns over and looks me in the eye. He doesn't move he just stares me down. "So," says the man through his thick beard, "Have you come to kill me then?". His response gets me by surprise, "I… actually, I`m on the run. I escaped a base not far from here and they`re out to kill me now,". He looks me up and down and props himself up on one elbow, I notice he`s wearing a tattered Mfp patrol jacket. "Well I can't help you, I`m waiting for death to take me, I thought you were gonna kill me," he looks like he`s seen some shit, you can see it in his eyes. He slowly gets up and picks up the shotgun. I point my gun at him alarmed, "Don't worry," he gently sets it down on a bench and raises his hands in a calm manner. He walks over and puts one hand on the Falcon coupe, it`s an old Mfp car. Maybe a pursuit special but this one is in rough shape, it`s naturally aspirated with a performance hood and wing kit, it also has the fibreglass front nose, but it sits a couple of metres away. Its black but it doesn't look like the black on black, it has blue and red lines down the side similar to the patrol cars. He looks me in the eye, "This used to be one of the fastest machines out there, the last of the v8s," "She still runs but she`s seen better days. I took it up here a couple of years ago and I`ve lived here ever since waiting for my reckoning," He looks at me very seriously, "I`ve done some bad things in my time," I look right back at him and say, "Haven't we all?". He looks at me and I say, "How about one last ride? For the good guy left in everyone.", he looks back to the Coupe. "I figured you might say something like that," he looks the coupe up and down almost like he`s saying goodbye. "Alright"

The Coupe burgles as we make our way down the hill, the road is rough, but I can tell this guy knows his way pretty well. We make a turn and end up on an actual road, we weave around wrecked cars, remnants of a time long gone. The coupe is clearly a well-tuned vehicle, the motor has some power and the suspension is surprisingly smooth. We don't talk but I feel we don't need to, everything that need be said already has been. We're going to run the gauntlet. The enforcers have pretty much got the entire mountain surrounded, we`ve been watching them and there are scouts set up at different points. We're going to use the infamous strategy and punch straight through the middle, the car picks up speed now. It's a flat stretch of road with no wreckage, this is the road that going to get us out of here. The road heads directly off the mountain through the centre and leads somewhere into the horizon, according to an old map the guy had this connects with a freeway that heads south. To the sea. To the last hope.


End file.
